


mortal danger.

by AlwaysInSonder



Series: Plance One-Shots. [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina-inspired AU, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slight Mentions of Gore, Tis the season to be spooky!, Warlock!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysInSonder/pseuds/AlwaysInSonder
Summary: What irony that a being anointed with darkness such as himself would befriend such a girl.





	mortal danger.

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to the marvelous hailqiqi who went above and beyond for beta-ing and whipped this fic into shape! ♥ Hope y'all enjoy and Happy Hallowe'en!

Sixteen years ago, on the twenty-eighth day of July, a boy and a girl were born to the mortal Marzia Serrano and her warlock husband, Ronaldo Serrano. The twins joined their other children; Marco, Luis, and Veronica Serrano. Veronica, their eldest child, at the time had just undergone her dark baptism into witchhood upon her nineteenth birthday. Being born of half-blood, a dark baptism was required to be accepted into their Coven so they might gain full powers.

With their first half-witch daughter a fledged member of the Coven, the Council ordered that following children must follow suit. However, the Serranos, much to the disdain of the Coven, fiercely protected their children’s right to choose their own paths, and supported their elder sons wholeheartedly when they both chose the path of the Light.

Thus, Lance and Rachel, the youngest of the Serrano brood, were raised in a large, loving home where both their mortal and magical heritages were honored and celebrated. The sacred All Hallow’s Eve was celebrated along the more leisurely mortal Halloween. They broke their pumpkin bread and went off into the suburbs to trick-or-treat alongside mortal children. Christmas was honored with gifts for the children and a great big feast alongside the solemn Dark Mass during Winter Solstice and so forth.

Until the night of the _strange and unfortunate_ accident.

Just a few days after the twins’ third birthday — on their way home from attending family matters on the island of Cuba - the proud, loving parents perished in a disastrous plane crash. As devout followers of the Light, Marco and Luis decided to flee the “cursed” family home, utterly convinced that the deaths had much to do with their parents’ refusal to force their remaining children to undergo a dark baptism into the Coven.

It therefore fell upon the Serrano’s aggrieved witch daughter to raise the young twins in the mortal neighbourhood of Altea, where generations of Serranos grew and practised their craft and ran the family's herbatorium. Determined to honor her parents, Veronica raised her siblings as they had raised her - with the greatest patience, love and support, and every effort made into cultivating a love for both of their heritages, in the old Serrano manse on the top of the hill that faced the Altean woods.

Rachel was quick to dismiss the witching world. She had interest in neither spell, hex, nor familiar. All she wanted was a normal, mortal life. Occasionally, Veronica would persuade her to give her gifts ‘ye olde college try’, only to be disappointed when even successful experiments failed to catch her interest.

Lance, on the other hand, had always been ecstatic about the witching world. Unlike his twin, he took to the mystical blood that ran in their veins like a snake to its prey. Much to Veronica’s delight, he spent a great many hours in the herbatorium cultivating ingredients, mixing potions and practising hexes. She knew he sometimes used his talents against his mortal classmates and tended to look the other way - specifically, the times he hexed his dearest friend’s bullies - but it wasn’t until he got to the point of brewing love potions to use on his crushes that Veronica intervened.

After confiscating his cauldron and locking away her ingredients, she very firmly explained the concept of consent and healthy romantic relationships. She'd illustrated her point by feeding his concoction to him and having him fall in love with Keith Kogane, his sworn mortal enemy and the object of his 'beloved' Allura's affections. After a week of attempting to publicly (and comically) romance the disgruntled Keith against his own will - and the humiliation he faced in school where his reputation as the ladies’ man was thoroughly tarnished (or was never really present, as Pidge loved to point out) - he'd conceded the point and swore never to do something like that again.

Lance eventually learnt how to charm (not quite the magical kind, much to the annoyance of his sisters) from online pick-up artist blogs and books on influencing people. Veronica had at one point muttered to herself that she'd rather he continued with the love potions.

Only one mortal girl, Pidge, was impervious to his charmed charms. He supposed it was difficult to woo someone he’d known since they were in diapers, someone who knew his every ugly angle and horrendous habit. Still, she remained his closest and most-trusted friend.

Little does the young warlock know, what fate had in store for him and his friend.

* * *

  

One morning, in his seventeenth year of life, Lance was reading a book on influencing - _not_ a book on manipulation, he’d argued with Veronica - at the breakfast table when Rachel sighed in exasperation.

"You know, they don't really see _you._ All they see is the persona you put for them. You might as well use a _deceptionem_ spell if you were going to be an impostor,”

"I'm not an impostor," he insisted, putting down the book and crossing his arms as his twin nudged past him to get into the kitchen. "I'm just...faking it till I make it. Eventually, it'll be a natural part of my personality."

"I hope to the demons below not,” James drawled. The black cat jumped onto the breakfast table and stretched, purring when Veronica scratched behind his ears in greeting. "It's intolerable as it is to meet with other familiars in the area and hear of your ridiculous conquests and crass charm usage." 

Veronica returned to sipping her tea delicately as she thumbed through the underworld’s _Morningstar Gazette_. It was a daily battle getting them to agree on anything and she was nearly seventeen years past caring if the three got along. As the young warlock rolled his eyes and began to prepare for mortal school, she looked up briefly. 

"Don't forget to come home early, I need to go through the incantations for your dark baptism with you. I won't have you embarrassing me in front of the Brothers again. And for the love of Satan, please don't use that teleport spell. I can only erase Principal Shirogane’s memories so many times before he forgets his own name. _Rachel_ , I know you hate Black Communion, but I’d like you to at least attend to make sure your brother behaves."

Rachel sighed with dramatic annoyance but kissed her sister’s cheek lovingly as she stood, then threw a middle finger Lance's way and flounced out the door. Before she closed it, she popped her head back in to holler, “Hey loverboy! Your Pidge is waiting for you!”

The door slammed behind her, the old walls of the Victorian home shaking with the motion. Lance stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth and moved to grab his bag. As he leaned down to give his elder sister a kiss to the cheek James hissed and he jumped, frowning at the feline in annoyance.

“Don’t make trouble,” the cat snarled, baring his teeth at the young warlock.

Lance merely rolled his eyes and made for the door, calling “I’ll make no such promises” over his shoulder.  
  
"Two more years," Veronica mumbled to herself, absently scratching the chin of her purring familiar. "Two more years, and I can finally have some peace."

“And we’ll have some alone time, my dear- ow!” The feline rubbed his ear with a paw and glared up at her accusingly. Veronica only shrugged.

“I told you, unless you find a way to have Dark Brother Iverson forgive you and undo the hex, I won’t let you anywhere near my bedroom again.”

* * *

 

Katerina Lucia Holt. Affectionately known as “Pidge” — thanks to her brother —  but her given names alone meant “pure light”. What irony that a being anointed with darkness such as himself would befriend such a girl.

“Mornin’ Pidge,” he grinned, white puffs escaping his lips as he leaned down to meet her eyes at the driver’s side. She tapped his quickly pinkening nose and smiled a smile that reached her eyes. His heart did backflips. Her hair - once long enough to reach her hips before they were drastically cut off - had begun to grow out. Brown locks kissed her chin with every turn of her head.

Her eyes were the color of pure, filtered honey and her smiles - even the sleep-deprived one that she was giving him right then -  warmed him better than sitting next to an enchanted bonfire.

“Another long night of research?” he kissed her temple in greeting as he climbed onto the beat-up buggy. She watched him patiently, waiting for him to strap on his seatbelt before stepping on the peddle.

“Surprisingly, no. Mom and I stayed up together and watched family home videos.”

The young warlock's smile faltered then.

One All Hallow’s Eve - or Hallowe’en, for her - many years ago, Pidge’s brother and father had gone missing while hiking in the woods. After two weeks of search parties and even helicopters scouring the area, the search was called off and they were presumed to be dead.

Pidge, on the other hand, had never gave up on them. Though she had only been ten years old when they’d disappeared, she’d sneak out at the witching hour, long after her mother had gone to bed, to search the woods for them herself. Lance too, in his own heartbreak of seeing his best friend so tortured with grief, joined her in her search.

Pidge had always believed with the greatest conviction that they were caught up in a government conspiracy. Altea was only a few miles away from a fenced-off block of land in the woods that housed a high-security research facility. Though few have claimed to see it, she was convinced they were held captive there and made it her mission to find the facility.

(However, Lance knew that it was definitely _not_ a government-owned research facility. It was, in fact, the headquarters of the Coven, disguised as one so that snooping mortals would fear legal repercussions.)

Pidge's father, Dr. Sam Holt, was a natural scientist and had taken his teenage son camping in the woods. It was believed that they had strayed too deep into the woods and were attacked by a wild bear, or had slipped and drowned in the murky waters of Lake Arus.

From the way Veronica looked at Pidge - and the unnecessarily gracious and soft manner she treated the girl when she was around - Lance suspected that there was more to it. And when he'd confronted his sister, he'd received nothing but a reprimand for doubting the Coven's legitimacy and a stern warning against planting ideas in Pidge’s head that left him feeling both infuriated and utterly helpless.

But once he’d saw how the frantic search for her family consumed his best friend - pushing herself to take greater risks by venturing into the uncharted parts of the forest that strayed too close for comfort to the Coven’s territory - Lance had to relent and admit that his sister was right. He brewed, with his sister’s guidance, a potion to ease her anxieties - one that would make her too fatigued in the night to want to wander off on her own into the dark recesses of the woods. He slipped it into her tea whenever she visited and eventually, her obsession with finding her family eased.

At least for a while.

"You okay?"

Lance's head jerked up as they pulled into Garrison High's parking lot. He blinked over at her, smiling softly at her concerned look.

"I'm alright, Pidge. Just...nervous about asking Allura out today."

He told the truth, but it somehow felt like a lie. Pidge rolled her eyes and let out a sharp bark of laughter, but as she pulled on her mittens, Lance noticed the red scratches on her arms. He grabbed her wrist, ignoring her protests as he inspected them with a frown.

"Went _exploring_ without me, Pidge?" he asked sardonically, dropping her arm finally. The scratches were, from her perspective at least, from pushing through thorny bushes. Lance made a note to himself to give the wood nymphs a good talking-to. "Lance, spare me the lecture. I can go on a hike without you."

A “hike” indeed. He’d hoped that he wouldn’t have to feed her more of the potion without her knowledge anymore. It had been six years since, and he’d rather not to be made to deceive his dearest friend once again.

"It's nearly winter, the sun goes down sooner and there is no reception in the woods. What are you going to do when you need help?"

"I know my way around the woods!" She threw up her hands in exasperation. "We've been hiking those paths since we could start walking, Lance."

"It's dangerous, is all I'm saying," he muttered in defeat, pulling himself out of the small car and waiting for her to grab her backpack. He was going to get an earful from Veronica.

“Should I kiss those scratches better?” He winked, draping an arm lazily around his best friend’s shoulders as they walked towards their school. When he was younger and just coming into his powers, Lance used to heal her small “boo boos” with a kiss. Pidge had always tried to reason with him that it was just the placebo effect at work and the tingly sensation she felt just her brain playing tricks on her.

"That won't be necessary." She flushed, pushing him aside as he chuckled.

* * *

 

A few days later, while snuggled together on her bedroom floor playing video games, Pidge confessed to him something unusual.

“I...I’ve kept something from you,” she began, her small fingers nervously fiddling with the controls, her attention to the game lost. “Not that I meant to, it was just that I never expected it to get this bad.”

He paused the game immediately and turned to look at her. He hadn’t noticed before, but her fingers were trembling slightly as she tried to cradle the controller. His hands enveloped hers as he gently took it from her grip.

“Tell me,” he prodded, leaning closer to her. Instinct told him that it had to do with her little misadventures into the woods (without him, much to his chagrin) but James had promised him - Veronica, really - that he’d keep an eye on her so she won’t stray too close to the Coven’s territory.

“I’ve been getting nightmares...well, it’s more of a memory. I _think_ ,” she started, chewing her bottom lip. Her eyes looked afar as she tried to recall the incident. “I was maybe twelve? It was the night of your special coming-of-age thing on your thirteenth birthday. I wandered away from the bonfire because I was feeling dizzy from the heat and the weird herbal tea this lady gave me.”

“Wait, what lady?”

Pidge shrugged, “I don’t know, she was tall? Long, white hair, but she looked pretty young and...creepy yellow eyes.” She shuddered at the memory, leaning closer to him.

Lance frowned at the description. There were quite a few people at his and Rachel’s birthday — the thirteenth birthday _was_ a special time for a young witch or warlock —  but he thought he’d remember someone so distinct. He shook his head, curled his fingers tight around hers and nudged her shoulder for her to continue.

“Well, I walked off into the woods. I wasn’t really seeing where I was going, but I did walk quite a bit. It felt like...my feet had a mind of its own,” Lance felt himself pale at this point. They’d given her a potion of some sort, he was certain now.

But why her?

“...And then I stumbled across this weird building...I think it’s that government facility everyone keeps talking about. Here’s the kicker — and I’m sure that at this point, that tea scrambled my brain because there’s _no way_ any of what happened after that was real — the gate was open and again, my feet pulled me there and I saw this...goat-man-thing? He was _horrifying_."

His heart stopped and a fear like never before gripped his throat. Pidge was shaking now and he was quick to wrap his arms around her, allowing her to bury her nose in his neck. As soon as he felt the first tears drip onto his skin, his arms shifted so she could sit comfortably on his lap, and a shaky hand lifted to stroke her hair while she cried softly.

“God Lance, I was so _scared_. It looked so menacing...there was blood and dead bodies...I wanted to run but my legs wouldn’t budge. I tried screaming but it was just like...my body couldn’t do anything. And I keep having nightmares about the same thing. Over and over. I just want it to _stop_.”

She paused to hiccup and Lance quickly pulled a water bottle from his bag, urging her to drink from it.

“...But I can’t help but feel this _pull_ to the forest. It’s like there’s this whisper in my head, telling me Matt and Dad are still out there.”

His mind raced as the fear quickly moved to suffocate his heart. They can’t possibly target her, she was innocent. She did nothing to deserve any of this. He needed to protect her.

She had the right to know.

“Pidge…” His voice had gone dangerously soft and that made her lift her head up. “You have to promise me that you won’t go off into the woods on your own again.” He looked down at her, brushing away more of the fresh tears as he continued, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “That weird building...all I know is that it’s _not_ a government facility. There’s a good chance your brother and father weren’t attacked by a boar or whatever excuse they came up with.”

He watched as her skin paled and her lips parted.

“So it’s true…”

“No, _no_ . Pidge? Listen to me.” He tilted her chin so she could see the seriousness in his eyes. “We don’t know _anything_. But what I do know, is that your life will be in danger if you go anywhere near that place.”

  
“But my dad....Matt…” Her eyes welled with tears again and Lance found himself struck at how his body froze over. Seeing her in tears brought out a pain greater than a physical kick to the gut. With her shoulders trembling in his arms and her wide eyes looking up at him so morosely, she never looked so helpless and small. It was not the Pidge he knew and loved.

“Katie…” he whispered gently, a hand lifting to wipe away her tears. “Please don’t cry. Look, there’s... something you need to know.” He gulped hard, watching her eyes lift to meet his. If he hadn’t known her since they were toddlers, he would have doubted her mortal status. Not a single being had the power to bewitch him like she did.

Taking a shaky breath, he told her everything.

* * *

 

"Hey kid, how was school?"

Lance's brow quirked as the black cat stretched across the foot of his bed, paws kneading into the duvet. James curled himself up comfortably, watching as he set his backpack on the floor slowly and warily.

"It was...alright. Allura rejected me again, but that was to be expected."

"Good, good."

A paw stretched forward and the proud feline inspected his extended claws nonchalantly. Lance gulped, strengthening his stance. He had a feeling he knew why the cat was in his room, but he couldn't be too sure. Veronica often had James be her little spy but she knew her boundaries. Lance wouldn't put it past her to violate them though.

It had been a few days since he’d finally “come out” to Pidge as a warlock and told her about the entire witching community that existed right under her cute little nose, the entire time she had lived in the quiet, unassuming neighbourhood of Altea. Naturally, she’d been skeptical, but a quick transmogrification spell on her multitude of stuffed animals was enough to dismiss any meek counter argument of a  “scientific explanation”. He’d broken several Coven laws, but he (weakly) hoped that Pidge had the good sense to listen to his pleadings.

"Something the matter, kitty?" he asked evenly.

James hissed and pulled himself up proudly, almost as though a man was puffing his chest. "I'd ask you to watch yourself _kid_ . I'm a _revered_ warlock. I'm only a lowly familiar for now."

"For now," Lance agreed, a smirk quirking on his lips.

"Wipe that smug look off your face. I'm here to warn you. I know of how loose-lipped you have been. Do you even know what kind of clusterfuck you’ve caused?"

He felt his heart stop and he sucked in a deep breath. "If this is about Pidge snooping about-"

"This is _exactly_ about that. The girl found the facility all on her own last night. If I hadn't been there to scare her away, she'd be in the Coven's claws."

"You _scared_ her?!" He raised his voice, frowning as he stepped closer towards the feline. He ignored the slight stab in his heart that Pidge went behind his back once more, even after he had told her everything about himself. Worst of all, that she’d gone to the exact place he’d told her to stay away from. .

"Only the usual ghastly figure in the distance. If she’s gutsy enough to invade Coven land, she can handle a ghoul or two. Calm down," James huffed, jumping down from the bed to look up at him indignantly.

“And I’ll remind you to keep to the rules, kid. They’re there for a reason.”

“Pidge deserves to know!”

“And she deserves to _live_. You want her dead? Go right ahead with the enabling. You do realize she has Nephilim blood?”

The revelation was like a punch to chest.

“ _What?_ ”

His voice was hoarse, as the fear he’d desperately tried to contain crept up through his veins once more. It explained so much - why charms didn’t work on her, why the potions eventually lost their effect...why they’d targeted her specifically.

Nephilim were beings attuned to the Light in the same manner witches and warlocks were attuned to the Dark. Their angelic blood made spells unbreakable, hexes powerful and was said even to grant immortality to those who drank it.

“How are you so sure?” he breathed shakily, knuckles turning white as his hands formed tight fists.

James licked a paw unaffectedly as he spoke, “I had my suspicions when she’d first stepped into this household. She sucks the demonic energy out of this house quicker than a blessed rain.” Dark yellow eyes glinted up at him. “I found out when I managed to nick her - just a _gentle_ scratch! Goodness boy, put down that fist - and my fur began to burn away.” He sniffed in disgust, his snout twitching. “I cannot believe I’m being made to protect a descendant of an Angel. My esteemed demonic ancestors must be turning in their graves.”

Lance sat heavily on his bed, his eyes on the familiar but his mind completely frazzled. His best friend, a _Nephilim_?

“All Hallow's Eve is tomorrow. If you choose to pledge yourself to the Coven, you’ll lose any right to protect her. You know how valuable Nephilim blood is, boy.”

And he shivered at the thought - Pidge captured, tortured in ritualistic sacrifice and drained of her blood. Was that the fate of her brother and father? Did she even _know_ what she was?

“You made a mistake, telling her. You’ve put the entire Coven, your _sisters_ in danger. You’re lucky her family is ignorant of their heritage or we’d have a repeat of the Salem massacre.”

He groaned in frustration and raked a hand through his hair. “I told her everything to keep her _safe_.” James titled his little black head, his pointed ears flickering with amusement.

“You like this little lady, don’t you?” His voice dripped with even more snark than usual, and Lance could just see his warlock form sneering at him. “The one that used to have the bad haircut and glasses but now is turning heads with her good looks? Dare I say... _love_?”

Lance’s face flushed, “Pidge is just a frie-”

“Yeah, shove it. I watched you two grow up. That growing, _festering_ tension between you two? I don’t call that friendship. It’s nauseating to watch.”

The feline yawned and slinked his way out of the room, his tail curling after him as he delivered one last parting shot.

“The memory wipe spell works _especially_ well at dusk. You’d need all the power you can get for it to last long on angel-breed. Don’t ask me why, I don’t make the rules.”

* * *

 

As the sun quickly dipped behind the distant mountains of Altea and the twilight fell over them, the two teenagers made their way into the woods. Pidge’s mittened hand reached for his. He took it and squeezed it gently, already feeling the regret in his heart. He hadn't been able to think straight since his talk with James. 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Her soft voice interrupted his train of thoughts. 

“...Yes” he whispered, eyes darting about in the dim light of the woods - making sure they were well and truly alone. 

He gulped down the tight knot in his throat. Lying to her now was harder than he could ever imagine. Lance turned slowly, watching her curious gaze rest on his face. Her brows softened at the look in his eyes. Guilt ate him for luring her out into the woods with the false promise of finding the facility with her.

“Lance? What’s wrong?”

How he ached to tell her more - how much he wished he could show her more of his world, or dare he hope, escape it with her?

“Pidge,” he began. He rested a hand on her cheek - flushed from the cold, he reasoned - and stroked a thumb gently over the arc of her lips.

“They found out I told you everything.”

He watched as her eyes widened. Confusion first, then fear, and, finally, concern - for him. For a moment, his resolve faltered. It had been hard enough to tell her everything about him once already - did he really want to take it all back?

But a morbid image - Katie, broken and laid on a ritualistic blood pentagram, her skin pale as snow and her eyes empty as her life slowly drained away - was enough for him to shake the doubt.

“Lance, will they hurt you? What’s wrong? Why do you look so scared?” Her voice was panicked and he sensed the guilt in it. He could never fault her for wanting to search for her family. Not when _he’d_ do anything to make sure _she_ was safe.

“I’ll be fine,” he promised her, leaning forward to kiss her brow. His voice came a little more shaky as he spoke again. “I love you, _mi ángel_. I’m only doing this to protect you.”

Her brows shot up and her lips parted in shock. Before she could realize his intent, he cupped her face in his palms and began the chant.

“Lance...what are you-”

_“Let your eyes unsee, your ears unhear, let all I’ve said disappear”_

He pressed his lips to hers, quieting her confused, frantic ramble. Her fingers gripped his jacket and he fully prepared for himself to be shoved aside - only to be pulled closer to her small frame instead. Once the spell took effect, Lance carefully stepped back. He rested his hands on her shoulders, watching the fog clear from her eyes.  
  
"I hope you'll forgive me one day," he murmured, reluctantly dropping his arms from her.

“Where...where am I?” She whispered, her eyes squinting as they focused on him.

“In the forest. We went for a walk and got lost.”

“...Really? Why didn’t we just use my GPS?” She blinked up at him tiredly, rubbing her eyes as though she’d just woken from a long, deep nap. He chuckled and brushed a kiss to her forehead, noting how her ears flushed at the contact.

“Why indeed,” he repeated, taking her hand in his to lead them out of the forest; not quite answering her question.

_Why am I so willing to follow you to the ends of the world?_

* * *

 

“Veronica! I’m home!”

“Lance, we’re in the sitting room.”

He paused at that. The old sitting room was never used unless they had guests. He didn’t see any car up the front of the house, nor any unfamiliar shoes by the door. Rachel poked her head out into the hallway and the look she gave him was enough warning.

He gulped and steeled his nerves as he stepped over the threshold. The fireplace was lit and was the only source of light in the room. Veronica was perched on one of the velvet-backed armchairs. The usual glow on his sister’s olive skin was gone - she was a sickly pale, and her eyes were wide and focused on their guest.

Before he could even turn his head to greet her properly, their ‘special guest’ stood. She was a statuesque woman - one who carried herself with the pride of an aristocrat. She wore a long, plum cape edged with ermine fur and a dark blue dress that glimmered in the firelight, but her smile made him shiver - there was a ghost of malice in the glint of her eyes as she appraised him. He noticed the cat on her shoulder; tufts of dark purple fur lined down it's curved spine as it hissed at the sight of him. A bony hand lifted to stroke the feline.

“Young Lance. You truly do take after your father.”

The tension was palpable in the room, only the crackle of the fireplace filled the room. Veronica stood when Lance nervously walked over to her. She took his backpack from him and hastily neatened his hair.

“Lance...High Priestess Haggar has _honored_ us with a visit.”

Yellow eyes. Long, tumbling white hair fell over a shoulder in elegant waves.

He gulped again as she lifted her cane towards him.

“I am usually not so...abrupt. But I’m afraid this issue has gotten out of hand. Your sister here has pleaded with the Council and so, for that, I am willing to make an offer with you.”

She stepped towards him and Lance noted the long, black cane, a skull seated on the top where long, bony fingers gripped.

“The _girl_ , I’m sure you know who I am referring to, will become the Coven’s new sacrifice. In return, we will give you a position in the esteemed sect of the youth-”

“ _Sacrifice?!_ ”

Veronica’s grip on his shoulder tightened and he lowered his voice. The rage he felt burning in his chest surprised even him but he kept his voice level. He will not show weakness before her.

“No. Never in a million years.”

Her expression was unreadable — Lance thought he saw a brief flash of fury in her eyes at his refusal. She lifted her hand, allowing her fingers to thread through his dark hair. He forced his body to still, even though his body screamed at him to _run_.

“You adore this girl, don’t you my child?” She smiled, the sharp tips of her nails scraping against his scalp in a manner that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He indulged her with a nod.

“And you desire no harm befall her?”

His fights clenched tightly and he willed himself to keep them at his sides. It was infuriating how powerless he felt. Pidge’s life was being dangled before him as bait. They _knew_ he would never risk her life — not even for his own.

“None. Absolutely none.”

His was low and deep when he continued, “And I mean what I say now: if you so much as _startle_ her or give her the flu, I _will_ end you.”

The witch chuckled darkly and touched her cane to Lance’s cheek. The bone still reeked of decay and death, and his throat closed as a wave of nausea hit him.

“Such sentiment. Such _emotion_ .” He shivered as the smooth cranium traced along his jawline to chin. “It’s that _filthy_ mortal blood in your veins. I suggest you cleanse it from yourself while you still have the chance,” she hissed. “How repugnant that a sacred day is sullied by mortal meddling.” She lifted her arm, muttering a spell under her breath.

Lance’s hard gaze didn’t falter the slightest, even when the witch finally disappeared into the curls of red smoke that manifested.

“Lance…” his sister began gently. His eyes were still on the chair the woman had sat on. He felt her hand rest on his shoulder to give a light squeeze.

“If it gives you any comfort, the Coven forbids harm upon innocent mortal life. So long as Katie keeps out of our neck of the woods, she’ll be safe. But she can’t go there anymore, Lance. It puts the Coven in danger of being discovered."

He snorted at that. It seemed like James hadn’t told Veronica Pidge’s little secret. But that didn’t matter, did these people even _know_ Pidge? She was never going to stop until she found her family. And if what James told him was true, her life was in mortal danger.

And on the thirty-first of October, All Hallow's Eve, he made his decision.  
  
He was going to protect her; even if it meant facing Satan himself.

**Author's Note:**

> ...Tell me your thoughts? x ♥


End file.
